


Whumptober 2019 - 24 - Secret Injury

by OllieCollie



Series: Whumptober 2019 [24]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Knife Wound, Kumu's brownies, Secret Injury, Thomas should know better than to hide things from his friends, Whump, bloodstains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 21:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllieCollie/pseuds/OllieCollie
Summary: A sudden pain tore through his side, and he squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a breath. Ouch. He stayed put for a second, breathing past the stinging pain. Maybe the wound hadn't been quite as simple to take care of as he'd thought.





	Whumptober 2019 - 24 - Secret Injury

It was just a little cut.

At least that's what Magnum had told himself when he'd gotten in a tussle with the angry husband of his client after the man had been caught cheating.

Sure, there was enough blood that he'd had to throw out his favorite Hawaiian-printed shirt—a great, great tragedy—and he may or may not have yelped aloud while trying to clean it once he'd gotten home—and he definitely  _ hadn't _ almost passed out. But he was fine. Really, it wasn't  _ that  _ bad. A doctor wouldn't even need to give him stitches. Probably. 

So after Thomas had bandaged the wound, he'd gone about his business and left it alone. 

...Actually, he'd taken the max amount of painkillers and fallen into bed—mindful of the injured side. The nap had done him good, but then he'd been faced with another problem: keeping the injury hidden from Higgins.

While it wasn't a major cut, it still hurt, and any time Magnum stretched too much or the wrong way, his side protested angrily. For that reason, he did his best to keep his movements slow and calculated—something Higgy would notice for sure, and Kumu and the guys, too, probably.

Which is why he spent as much time as possible in the guesthouse, regretting that he'd agreed to a barbeque that night with the gang. They'd find it quite suspicious if he decided not to show up.

Then, he wondered, was it really such a bad idea to get the knife wound looked at by someone? 

"No, no," he muttered out loud. There was no point. It wasn't that bad. Plus, he'd never hear the end of it if the others found out that he'd gotten knifed by some crazy dude while working the simplest of all jobs.

Thomas glanced at his phone. Rats, the guys were probably already out at the main house complaining that he hadn't come down to help out with the grilling yet. He threw on a fresh button-down and ran—well, fast-walked—out the door.

"T.M.! What up, man?" T.C. grinned as Thomas approached the group. 

Rick raised an eyebrow. "It's about time you showed your face."

"Yeah, uh, sorry about that." Thomas shrugged, wincing when he tugged at his injury. "Lost track of time."

"Let me guess." T.C. turned from his position standing in front of the grill. "You fell asleep and forgot you were supposed to help us cook dinner."

Oops.

"Well, while you've been napping your life away, T.C. and I have been working on these killer burgers." Rick motioned to the grill. "And Kumu made her famous double-fudge brownies that you totally don't get to eat because you were too busy sleeping to help us."

Thomas rolled his eyes.  _ And they call me dramatic. _

"Thomas, are you all right?" Higgins appeared on the patio, a bowl of salad in her hands. "You look a bit...flushed."

He quickly waved away the concern. "I'm fine," he said, moving to sit at the table. His side protested but he ignored it.

"Ah ah ah!" T.C. pointed the spatula in Thomas's direction. "You don't get to sit and watch while the rest of us work our tails off." He glanced at Juliet. "Hey, you got anything for Thomas to do?"

She set the bowl on the table and tilted her head slightly, considering. "Well, I'm sure Kumu could use some help bringing the rest of the dishes out." 

Thomas sighed. "All right, all right." He pushed himself up from the table and started toward the house.

"Hey, and maybe move a little faster than a turtle, Tommy," Rick called after him.

"Shut up, Orville!" he shot back without turning around. He heard T.C. snickering behind him.

"Hey, Kumu!" Thomas slipped inside and grinned. His eyes caught on the brownies sitting on the counter and reached for one.

A hand came out of nowhere and smacked his. "Thomas!" Kumu chided, shaking her head. "Don't you touch those. We haven't even eaten yet."

Thomas gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. "Aw, c'mon, just a bite? Please?"

Kumu gave him a look. "Well, I guess so, but only if you grab those chips from the top cabinet over there."

_ Yes!  _ "Thanks, Kumu!" Thomas moved over to the pantry and reached for the bag of chips.

A sudden pain tore through his side, and he squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a breath.  _ Ouch. _ He stayed put for a second, breathing past the stinging pain. Maybe the wound hadn't been quite as simple to take care of as he'd thought.

"Thomas?" Kumu's concerned voice broke through his haze. 

He quickly grabbed the chips and closed the cabinet. "All good." He held up the bag. "I'll just…... bring these outside."

The woman frowned but didn't pester him further. Thomas ducked back out the door, holding the bag of chips in one hand, covering the way his other hand pressed against his shirt.

"Took you long enough," T.C. greeted as Magnum made his way back to the others. He and Rick were clearly having a good time making fun of their friend.

"Haha, very funny," he retorted. 

"Okay, Thomas, I know you—woah." Rick's eyes widened. "Is that blood?"

Thomas glanced down. Crimson liquid had already formed a large spot on his shirt and was now seeping steadily between his fingers. "Uh… no?" He swayed slightly on his feet.

"That's not a question you're supposed to answer with a question." Rick was already at his side, taking the chips from Thomas's hand and tossing them aside.

"Thomas, what happened?" Jules gaped as Rick led the injured man to the nearest chair. 

Magnum shoved away his friend's prying fingers. "It's nothing," he muttered. "Just a scratch."

T.C. shook his head. "Brother, that looks like a lot more than a scratch."

"Okay, so apparently it was deeper than I thought. Bite me." He huffed when Rick tugged his shirt up to get a better look.

Higgins gasped lightly, kneeling next to the chair on the other side of Rick. "Seriously, Thomas, what happened to you?" 

He winced when something was pressed hard against his side. "Just—had a little… accident on a case."

"Accident? Bro, this is a knife wound." Rick raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with T.C. 

"Well, let's just say—you should see the other guy," he said jokingly. No one laughed. 

Higgins was frowning, maybe in worry, but more likely in that _ "how ridiculous can you be" _ look that he got a lot from her. "You really should have gotten that checked out, Magnum."

He hissed when Rick pressed harder against the wound. "I'm sorry, okay? I figured it wasn't that bad." Although now… he was feeling a little light-headed. 

"You didn't think to tell anyone?" T.C. piped up. 

"Well, geez, sorry I kept it such a big secret." Thomas gritted his teeth. "Next time I'll run in crying for help—ow!" 

T.C. rolled his eyes. "You're a real piece of work, brother. You know that?"

Thomas didn't bother responding—he was a little short of breath, anyway. 

"C'mon, let's go get you checked out," Rick spoke up, keeping his focus on the towel he had against the wound, stemming the blood.

"Go, Thomas." Jules' firm voice left no room for protest. 

So Magnum relented, thankful no one had asked him for  _ exact _ details. Because really, that wasn't important. His secret injury hadn't ended up being much of a secret, but the origins of it would stay under wraps indefinitely. 


End file.
